Trafika Europe 8 - Romanian Holiday

Christopher Kloeble

ice for a while, and was about to say good-bye to her reflection, when she noticed an animal climbing from a hole in the ice near the opposite shore. It walked on two legs, had two arms, most of its hair on its head, and otherwise, as far as she could tell from that distance, it was naked. It had to be an animal. No man could endure this cold, not without clothing. It vanished behind a curtain of dark-green fir boughs. As fast as she could, Anni slid back toward the dock, ignoring the soft crackling beneath her, and as soon as she’d reached the shore, ran back toward the village. Mina had lost her father to a rabid fox, and Carpenter Huber had been attacked by awolfonce inbroaddaylight.

(Thus his odd posture while sitting—he had to balance himself on his remaining buttock, the left one.) Anni ran. But even that seemed much too slow to escape some beast that might catch her scent, come lunging after her, sink its teeth into her flesh—she ranranran. Her heart dictated the pace, her knees burned, her feet ached, the wind drew tears from her eyes and pumped frigid air through her body. When Anni reached the somebodies’ house, she slammed the door behind her. Its creaking wasn’t oppressive, as usual—it was the sweetest sound in the world. She sank to the floor and wept into her hands, without knowing why. I’ll never go back there, she swore to herself. Never leave

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